finally

in the middle of a crazy day, it rang.
i thought it was a bank - or someone else who wouldn't give up, but no.
he rang ... he who had given up, indeed.
all those years of putting out the strongness, and i could only cry.
his voice, at first so beautiful, then creepingly, scowlingly sweet
- like turkish delight -
was resurrected from i've tried to forget.

and now i'm even more convinced these dreams ...
these dreams are something.
that hating you - you, back there - was my hating him.
forgiving you - yeah, over there - was my forgiving him.
and not letting go of you - you, here - is my moving on.

and i have a feeling that when we're finally on that couch,
when your head finally reaches my shoulder,
when i'm finally holding you ...
you'll turn all this i feel nothing into i feel something,
and i'll be the one that cries.